Julie Beischel of the Windbridge Institute asked me to pass along this information about an upcoming study. Maybe some of you will be able to volunteer!

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Are you interested in receiving a psychic reading as a volunteer in a scientific research study?

The Windbridge Institute ( www.windbridge.org) is currently seeking volunteers to act as psychic research reading recipients (PRRRs or "P triple Rs") who will receive and score psychic readings about themselves. PRRRs must be 18 years or older, reside in the US, and have NOT experienced the death of any family members, romantic interests, or close friends during their lives. Individuals who have not lost anyone close to them are being specifically recruited in order to attempt to prevent deceased "drop-ins" during psychic readings for living participants.

My recent posts on Osama bin Laden and the afterlife raised an issue for me that I've been aware of for some time. When I consider evidence for the afterlife in general, such as accounts provided by mediums, near-death experiencers, or even hypnotically regressed subjects, I often find the material plausible and illuminating. But when I ponder the fate of specific deceased individuals, whether bin Laden or people I've known in my personal life, it all starts to seem a bit unreal to me, and I find myself asking: How much do I believe this stuff, really?

Years ago I read an essay by Joseph J. Stefula, Richard D. Butler, and George P. Hansen on a controversial UFO case. The essay concluded that the UFO investigators weren't actually serious about looking for evidence that would cast doubt on the case, and didn't take the actions that people who genuinely believed these claims would have taken. They behaved more like participants in a role-playing game such as Dungeons & Dragons. The roles they played added drama and interest to their lives, and they were unwilling to lose the fun and excitement of the game by subjecting it to reality-testing.

I have to wonder to what extent my own interest in the afterlife fits this description. Certainly I've detected this mindset in some other people who've offered evidence for life after death. For instance, I've written about the peculiar claims made by Mark Macy in his book Miracles in the Storm and the (in my opinion) inadequately supervised materialization experiments conducted with David Thompson. Then there are historical cases such as William Crookes' investigation of Florence Cook or Baron Schrenck-Notzing's investigation of Eva C. (a.k.a. Marthe Beraud), which seem to bear every indication of a shared fantasy, a sort of folie a deuxbetween researcher and subject. This is just another kind of role-playing.

It's fairly easy to see the role-playing or shared-fantasy aspect of cases like those listed above, but how about the stronger cases? Here it's much more difficult to dismiss the phenomena as imaginary. I'm thinking in particular of the decades-long investigations of Gladys Osborne Leonard, Leonora Piper, and Eileen Garrett. Unfortunately all these cases were current many years ago. Piper and Leonard were active around the turn of the last century. It's impossible to reconstruct the atmosphere of those tests with complete certainty.

Did Charles Drayton Thomas accurately report the book and newspaper tests that seem so convincing, or did he (perhaps unconsciously) fudge certain details or stretch the facts to make the predictions fit? The predictions were sent to the Society for Psychical Research as soon as they were recorded, but how carefully were they reviewed, and to what extent did biases and predispositions on the part of the examiners affect their conclusions?

Were the famous "cross-correspondences" as meaningful as the dedicated researchers believed, or did the researchers dig out isolated scraps of information from a mass of extraneous material in order to construct an apparent correspondence after the fact?

Even the impressive R-101 case is open to criticism, since Eileen Garrett's sessions with Oliver Villiers weren't recorded verbatim, but were written down immediately afterward by Villiers, who was trusting his memory.

I'm not saying that these objections are fatal to these cases. I do think, on balance, the pro-afterlife interpretation of these and similar investigations is more plausible than any skeptical alternative. But I can't rule out the skeptical alternatives altogether.

What I wonder is if my reluctance to pursue doubts on this subject is prompted by a subconscious desire to continue the role-playing persona I've created for myself. Some people might ascribe this reluctance to fear of personal extinction at the moment of death, but I think it's more likely to be fear of the extinction of a persona that has become part of my ego.

Consider this: If I were fully and unflinchingly convinced of life after death, wouldn't I expect the AWARE study to yield solid hits? Yet I'll be very surprised if any of the participants can accurately describe even one of the hidden images. So how confident am I? Do I think the evidence will always fall just short of being conclusive? And if so, is it because the universe has been set up this way to keep us in perpetual doubt, or is it because of a fundamental weakness in the evidence itself?

Don't get me wrong. I think there is more than enough evidence to justify -- but not to coerce -- a belief in life after death. I think the strongest cases, such as those listed above (and there are quite a few others), are extraordinarily difficult to explain without the hypothesis of an afterlife. Still, increasingly I'm aware that my interest in this subject is based, at least in part, on the enjoyment of contemplating something outre and unconventional. I've created a persona for myself, and I play a role appropriate to this persona.

Actually I think we all do this. The hard-nosed skeptic is playing a role, too, and so is the person who is too "practical" to be interested in things like spirituality. Maybe we can't help but role-play all the time, and Shakespeare was right when he wrote that all the world's a stage. Our best hope may be to become more aware of the artificiality of the roles we play, and of the insubstantiality of even our most cherished convictions.

We've recently been having an interesting debate about morality in these pixellated pages. Much of it has focused on Osama bin Laden and his moral status. Some argue that he was doing the right thing as he saw it, or that what he did was no worse than what other historical figures have done, or that in his shoes, anyone might have done the same, and so we can't possibly know or judge.

But I think maybe we are making things a little too complicated. As I see it, it's really not that hard.

Most people don't go out of their way to hurt and kill others. In fact, they probably go out of their way to help others, at least some of the time.

Osama bin Laden, on the other hand, spent most of his adult life trying to come up with new and more creative ways to kill people. No doubt he had his reasons. People always have reasons. Jack the Ripper must have had reasons, too.

But whatever bin Laden's reasons, he chose the dark side. He could have worked for a peaceful solution, as Gandhi did. He had millions of dollars, an influential family, and a passionate following. Imagine the good he could have done if he had pursued the cause of peace and goodwill. Instead he chose the path of mass murder.

Getting caught up in debates about Hiroshima or Dresden sort of misses the point, though it is interesting. Once war starts, there will be atrocities. That's inevitable. War is hell, and countless good people die on and off the battlefield. This has always been true. Recognizing this fact, people of goodwill go out of their way to avoid war. They negotiate with anyone, even with Hitler, trying to find a compromise, any compromise. They ask for cooler heads to prevail. They pray for peace.

But Osama bin Laden didn't do that. Quite the opposite: he wanted to start a war, and he wanted to commit atrocities. He relished the idea of dragging the whole world into armed conflict. He didn't pray for peace and understanding; he prayed for death and destruction. He made mass murder the focus of his life.

Did he make the world a better place? Certainly not for the people around the world whom he killed and maimed, or for the soldiers of many nations who ended up fighting in Afghanistan and elsewhere. Did he at least make life better for his own people? Not at all. The Muslim world did not benefit from Al Qaeda's attacks. Many Muslims were among the victims, and others have seen an increase in prejudice and hostility against them.

Bin Laden did nothing positive with his wealth. He used it to purchase weapons and to train killers. He did nothing positive with his fame. He used it to recruit confused young men as suicide bombers. He did nothing positive with his influence. He only stoked the fires of resentment and rage in both hemispheres, and made the world a sadder and more divided place.

Only a bad man would kill a lot of innocent people with no hope of accomplishing anything except the commencement of a wider war and still more killing. Yes, other world figures have been responsible for civilian deaths. But here's the distinction. It's one thing to kill people in wartime in the hope of ending the war and establishing peace. It's another thing to kill people in peacetime for the sake of provoking a war, with the ultimate goal of killing as many more people as possible.

The Iranian president publicly fantasizes about the return of the Twelfth Imam, which will supposedly trigger a global war and the deaths of all infidels -- "infidels" meaning, evidently, everyone who doesn't belong to Ahmadenijad's own narrow sect. There's no way to rationalize this as goodness, even as perverted goodness, goodness gone astray. It's plain malice, pure and simple. It's the fever dream of an angry bigot praying for the death of anyone who dares to think differently from him.

Osama bin Laden was no different. He wanted mass murder. He devoted his life to it. This was a fatal error -- fatal not only to his many victims, but to his own soul. He chose the wrong path.

Does this mean he is beyond redemption? No, I don't think so. But it does mean he will need to face the full consequences of his error, and those consequences are very grave. He will have to realize that he embraced the darkness instead of the light.

The world is facing a conflict between fundamentally different mindsets. It is a conflict that only one side can win. We close our eyes to this hard fact at our own peril. In the West we are raising moral equivalence to an art form. Our adversaries recognize no such nuances. As Yeats foresaw,

In a recent post, I speculated about what might happen to Osama bin Laden, assuming that there is life after death. The only book I know of that addresses this general question is Suicide: What Really Happens in the Afterlife?, by Pamela Rae Heath and Jon Klimo (2006). Written in the aftermath of 9/11, the book contains a long section on suicide bombers and other terrorists, including the 9/11 terrorists. Since very few mediums had attempted to get in touch with such people, the authors enlisted a few mediums to try. Naturally, I have no way of judging whether the resulting allegedly channeled information is accurate. But it's pretty much the only channeled information on this subject, as far as I know.

Part II of the book, titled "Murder-Suicide and Suicide Bombers," is 125 pages long. I've excerpted only about one and a half pages, which consists of part of a reading by medium Nevada Shaw. The questioner was Pamela Rae Heath. Some of the answers are rather obscurely worded, but the gist is fairly clear. I'm not sure if this material, or even the entirety of Part II, clearly addresses all of the questions we've been discussing, but at least it's food for thought.

Q: Now that they have crossed over, do they [i.e., terrorists] still believe that they acted according to God's wishes?

A: Some do. Most are still very confused....

Q: Do they, now that they have crossed over, still think that God wanted them to be a martyr?

A: They are not sure.

Q: Do they feel it was God who was responsible for killing the victims?

A: Some do. Some are now confused as to what they consider God. Some have been confused in thinking we [i.e., the spirit guides] are God. The explanations we give to them is [that] God is part of all of it, and in a sense we are God, which confuses them more.

Q: Did dying let them escape their problems?

A: No. Though there is more neutrality for them. They can observe the opportunity to learn, without having the pain as attached. Initially the pain was very much there. That's part of the learning process if they are still attached to the story. It helps them to recognize what their part in behavior toward others can reflect in, and around, themselves. Ultimately, it is their own reflection they have always come to see. That is what I am meaning about no good or bad. Regardless, they are going to have to deal with whatever this is and their stories. And if they are responsible for the death of someone else, they will have to reflect upon that story, as well.

Q: Many are confused, but do some feel misled or lied to about what would happen if they died?

A: Yes. Though now, they are not as emotional about it. Most of that has burnt away. They are simply looking at it now. It's another story they could attach to by being annoyed.

Q: Is annoyance a defense they are using?

A: Yes. It doesn't matter who sent them.

Q: Had you been using sleep to help them recover?

A: They do not sleep....

Q: I should also ask if, in some ways, they felt lied to, were there ways in which they felt like they were told the truth and still feel that way?

A: Seventy percent. But that's fading. That's part of the confusion. There's some uncertainty now. It takes, if we are speaking in linear terms (and it varies), four to six days in your linear time terms to accommodate past initial emotions and any sensation, physicality, confusion. Some may be confused whether they have a body or not. It takes two to four weeks to deal with the emotion of the story. Beyond that, they may move into a more neutral place. It varies.

Q: Is that the holding zone you spoke up before?

A: That is part of it. The holding pattern is a much more complex and long-term position. In linear terms it could be anywhere from a month to thousands of years. It could also be a resting place for some. But essentially it's a place that those that are still confused, but neutral, stay. There is no point for them going to the next level until they adjust.

Q: What about those who are confused but not neutral? Where do they stay?

A: It is the same place from our perspective -- [that of] the guides. It appears to them as a different place for they would not witness the other souls. They would think they are by themselves.

Q: What do they see?

A: They see themselves as they knew themselves before. They may reflect upon the individuals they came in contact with. The flashes of this go back and forth as if it were a channel. Sometimes this confuses them. Sometimes they find in a way to move through their thoughts quickly. It is a technique we use with them to help them move past the attachment. [pp. 331-332]

I was watching the Fox News Channel late-night program Red Eye the other night, when for some reason the topic of the is-ought dichotomy came up.

As you probably know, the is-ought dichotomy was first identified by the 18th-century philosopher David Hume, who observed that it's impossible to derive a value judgment -- an ought -- from facts alone. The problem was largely ignored in his time, but has proved vexing to more recent philosophers. Many attempts have been made to bridge the gulf between is and ought. All have failed. There does not seem to be any way of resolving the dichotomy.

On Red Eye, one of the panelists suggested that the dichotomy posed no real problem by giving this example: "It is raining. Therefore I ought to take my umbrella." He then shrugged, as if to say: See? Solved it for you.

Red Eye is a pretty unserious show, which consists mostly of playful banter broken up by YouTube clips of funny animals, so I don't know if the brief discussion was meant to be taken seriously or not. But if this was a legitimate suggestion, it was mistaken. The example given does not resolve the dichotomy. The reason is that the line of reasoning presented includes a hidden step, which is implied but not stated. Let's restate the argument with the hidden step made explicit.

1. It is raining.

2. I prefer not to get wet.

3. Therefore I ought to take my umbrella.

Here we can clearly see that the ought statement is predicated on step two, a personal preference.

Now, no one has ever denied that ought statements can be derived from personal preferences. The point of the is-ought dichotomy is that ought statements cannot be derived from neutral facts. And that is indeed true. It is impossible to derive step three from step one without the intervention of step two.

In fact, virtually all ought statements derive from statements of preference, even if these statements are implicit. You can easily test this yourself by making just about any ought statement you can think of, and then identifying the preference that underlies it. The only arguable exceptions are ought statements based on instincts, such as the will to live. An instinct may be seen as only a deeply ingrained preference, or it may be seen as brute biological fact, depending on one's point of view.

Does this mean that all moral values are based on personal subjective preferences and, possibly, a few biological drives? That's the position taken by most contemporary secular humanists.

The alternative is that objective moral values unconnected to biology do exist, but that they are not derived not from empirical observations. Instead, they are derived from a deep, intuitive insight into the nature and purpose of the universe and/or its Creator - a precious gift, a pearl beyond price, handed down to the rest of us by a small number of gifted spiritual teachers. Of course, this takes us into the realm of mysticism and revelation, a step which is understandably offputting to many moderns, and which gives rise to problems of its own.

Still, if we are going to live in a world of objective moral values instead of mere subjective preferences and blind animalistic instincts, then the is-ought dichotomy tells us we must go beyond the limits of logic. Because logic, it seems, can take us only so far.

Note: After some interesting discussion in the comments, I added new material to this post on May 7, 2011.

In broaching this topic, I can't help but be reminded of an episode of the old TV sitcom Becker. The opening scene went something like this:

Becker is sitting at a lunch counter and remarks to a friend that one of his patients just passed away. A nearby stranger intrudes on the conversation, asking, "When did he die?"

"Yesterday," Becker says.

"Oh, good. Then he's still on the astral plane. I'll be visiting there later today. You want me to look him up?"

Later it transpires that a mental hospital has been releasing its patients into Becker's neighborhood.

There is something undeniably nutty about speculating on the afterlife adventures -- or misadventures -- of a particular individual. How can we possibly know? There is no way to be sure, with 100% confidence, that there even is an afterlife, let alone to know what goes on there, let alone to know what's happening to a given person.

Nevertheless, those of us who think that life after death is highly probable, and who have read widely on the subject, can't help but formulate some idea -- provisional and conjectural though it may be -- of what a person like Osama bin Laden might expect. In my own case, my expectation is based on mainly on reports of near-death experiencers and mediums. Robert Crookall's books, notably Intimations of Immortality, have been particularly influential on me.

It appears that the circumstances of one's death can play an important role in how smoothly the transition goes. Osama bin Laden's last earthly moments must have been characterized by confusion and distress, as a team of commandos fought their way into the house in a midnight raid, killing many of its occupants in a hail of bullets. It is safe to say that bin Laden was fearful, even panicky at the end. And then, before he had time to compose himself, a bullet tore through the left side of his face, blowing out the back of his skull, and killing him instantly.

A person who dies that way seems likely to have a rough transition. He may not even realize he is dead. He may remain earthbound for a long time, in a state of shock and denial, treating the physical world around him as a dream. This condition can persist for days, months, or even longer.

On the other hand, bin Laden presumably did believe in an afterlife, so he might be more mentally prepared for his discarnate existence than the average secular-minded person today. Of course, he would expect to go to paradise, an everlasting garden of sensual delights. But nothing in my reading suggests that this is how the scenario would play out.

What, then, would happen to bin Laden? Originally I wrote that he would go directly to the life review as described below. But Bryan.A pointed out that someone as spiritually bankrupt as bin Laden probably would not be ready for a life review. Instead, he would more likely be drawn to a very low plane of spiritual existence, where he would linger for an untold period of time amidst similarly debased souls. His existence would continue in this harsh, dreary, loveless realm until eventually he became aware of his own shortcomings and the need for repentance and atonement. Only then would he be able and willing to receive guidance from higher spiritual beings, which would orchestrate a life review.

I think this is probably correct; at least, it conforms to what I've read. So let us assume that bin Laden will first linger in a twilight zone, a sort of "Hades" in the original sense - the misty, joyless underworld described by the ancient Greeks. At some point he will begin to emerge from his self-absorption and self-imposed blindness, he will reach out for help, and help will be offered. Then he will be ready for the next step -- what near-death experiencers call a life review.

All of his significant actions and decisions on earth will be replayed before him. Not only will he see his life flash before his eyes, but he will enter into the experience, reliving crucial moments. More important, he will be compelled to experience the consequences of his choices in the lives of other people. He will enter their subjective awareness, and feel what they felt.

Bin Laden is believed to have ordered the bombing of US embassies in Africa which killed about 200 people, the 9/11 attacks which killed nearly 3,000 people, and numerous other atrocities around the globe. Thousands of people suffered violent deaths as a result of his actions. Untold thousands more suffered the grief, shock, and trauma of losing their loved ones. Still others were maimed and crippled. What would it be like to experience the physical and emotional pain of all those thousands of people? It would be something like hell.

The life review seems to take place in a timeless realm, or, to put it more precisely, a realm in which time operates differently from the way we know it on the physical plane. There is no earthly way to estimate how long bin Laden's immersion in the agony of his victims would last. Perhaps, in earthly terms, it is all over in less than a second; but subjectively, from bin Laden's point of view, it might seem to last for centuries.

In any event, at some point this terrible ordeal will end. Having already matured enough to be willing to face the life review, bin Laden should find the experience so intense and revealing that he will no longer cling to the ego-centered outlook that drove him to commit his crimes. He will see, clearly and for the first time, the terrible error of his ways. He will seek forgiveness.

But mere remorse is not enough. What will follow is a long period of self-abasement and spiritual regeneration, a tortuous path to redemption that could include new earthly incarnations in which he will experience the powerlessness and pain of a victim throughout a whole lifetime. The purpose is not suffering for its own sake, but the attainment of a new level of spiritual awareness, made possible only by a full understanding of his former depravity.

Eventually, even a soul as corrupt and malignant as bin Laden will be purified and exalted. It may take many lifetimes, an immense amount of spiritual work, and the guidance of infinitely patient spirit counselors. But from everything I've read on the subject, it appears that no soul is permanently left behind.

Some people might say that a monster like bin Laden deserves unending torment, with no opportunity for redemption. But it seems that the system -- or the Mind behind it -- is not so harsh and unforgiving. Every soul, we are told, originates in innocence and will ultimately return to that state, after its errors and transgressions have been stripped away. But the process of purification is long and arduous, and there are no shortcuts.

So where in the world is Osama bin Laden right now? My guess -- of course it can be only a guess -- is that either he is anchored to his mansion in Pakistan in a fog of bewilderment and fear, or he is sunk deep in a half-lit underworld in the company of other angry, violent, homicidal, and intolerant souls, where he will remain until he is ready to face the full consequences of his evil acts.